


Beauty in Uncertainty

by Talulabelle



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: Anal Sex, Clint wishes he was a ninja, Darcy is AWESOME, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Phil Coulson is a ninja, Poor Steve and his 1940's standards of relationships, Spanking, Threesome - F/M/M, dating your boss is complicated, yay smut!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-18
Updated: 2012-08-18
Packaged: 2017-11-12 09:56:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/489598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talulabelle/pseuds/Talulabelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy discovers the beauty in uncertainty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [perletwo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/perletwo/gifts).



> Thank you so, so much to my wonderful friends and betas [Sigridhr](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Sigridhr/pseuds/Sigridhr) and [Meinterrupted](http://archiveofourown.org/users/meinterrupted/pseuds/meinterrupted) for all of their work and support.
> 
> This is my very first exchange fic! I had a lot of fun writing it and hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

It takes Darcy exactly six months, three weeks, two days and seven hours of working as a glorified secretary for SHIELD to realize that she likes Clint Barton. Like, write about him in her diary, likes him. There’s only two – okay, a few – problems with this little revelation. For starters, she hasn’t kept a diary since the sixth grade, and really only has a Tumblr account to monitor what’s being said/posted/rumored about the Avengers. There’s also the small matter of Clint technically being a co-worker, which really probably isn’t an issue because SHIELD’s workplace fraternization policy is more vague than a Bon Iver song. And the whole age difference thing, which isn’t a problem for her necessarily because she’s always liked older guys. But it could be an issue for him.

And, yes, she has made a list of all the pros and cons of her revelation. It’s a Friday so there’s time to kill before they’re all sent home for the day. And Coulson’s been leaving early lately which eliminates the chances of him catching her slacking off. Not that he’d likely do much. Coulson is, quite simply, the coolest boss she’s ever had.

Of course that just leaves herself open to be caught slacking off by other members of SHIELD.

Like, Clint Barton himself.

He has a tendency to sneak up on people, something that obviously comes in handy with the whole super assassin thing. She’s gotten used to it, but having the guy you were just making lists about pop up right behind you tends to do things to your heart rate.

To Darcy’s credit, she doesn’t let out a high pitched squeal like she did the first time Clint dropped in on her. But she does nearly knock her iPod off her desk in her haste to cover up the list before Clint can get a decent look at it.

“Hey, Darce. We still on for tonight?” He leans against her desk and it takes every ounce of willpower she has to keep from staring at the way his jeans so perfectly fit his ass.

“Uh...” Okay, so maybe she sneaks a quick peek. Which distracts her, which makes her look stupid, which in turn makes her feel like an idiot. And she hopes that she isn’t blushing, because Clint is trained in how to pick up even the most subtle change in someone. “Of course, dude. You still owe me a shot from the last time.”

It’s not quite accurate to call their somewhat-weekly-barring-any-disasters trip to a local dive bar a tradition, but it’s close enough. The whole thing started after her first week at SHIELD and she’d been in the middle of watching a particularly good karaoke rendition of Benny and the Jets when Clint walked in. At the time he played it off as a coincidence, but she’s still pretty sure that he was sent to keep an eye on the newest member of SHIELD. Either way, he bought her a drink and didn’t completely humiliate her at darts. They also started a betting game on the karaoke, guessing what song a person would sing based on a now extensive list of criteria.

So it’s not a tradition, but it’s a nice slice of normal. And in a world of completely abnormal when your co-workers were all superheroes and highly trained government agents, Darcy needs all the normal she can get.

She says a quick goodbye to Clint before staring at the clock for the last few minutes of her day. When it ticks over to five she, along with the rest of the low-level flunkies, dash out of the office. From there it’s a quick ride up to the floor that holds the personal living quarters of Stark Tower. She’s still not entirely sold on the whole living where she works thing, but the rent can’t be beat. As in it’s _free_. Her apartment isn’t quite the penthouse that Tony occupies, but it’s at least ten times the size and about a thousand times nicer than anything she would have been able to afford on her own. 

Plus there’s the added bonus of having the Avengers around, which usually makes for a pretty hilarious if not somewhat surreal experience.

There’s no hard and fast dress code rules for their not-tradition. It is a dive bar, after all. But something spurs Darcy on to go for slightly less casual tonight. She puts on her best pair of jeans and a top that highlights the girls in all the right ways without coming across as slutty. Or desperate.

Because she’s totally not desperate. Or madly crushing on Clint. Or hopeful that tonight will finally be the night that Clint kisses her when he drops her off at her door.

She stares at her reflection in the mirror for a few moment, then sighs and changes into a different shirt before she leaves.

~~~

The bar is far enough away from Stark Tower to avoid any uncomfortable run ins with other co-workers and just far enough on the side of what’s considered a dive bar to still have a decent beer selection. When she arrives the usual Friday night crowd is already starting to form, but she spots Clint over at their usual table.

Well, she spots Clint and Natasha.

Her heart drops to just about the same level as her stomach and she has to struggle to keep the smile on her face as she approaches them. While it took her six months, three weeks, two days and seven hours to figure out that she likes Clint it only took two days for her to figure out that Natasha intimidated the hell out of her. That, and there’s obviously something going on between them. This, of course, is the top item on the list of the _Cons of Liking Clint Barton_.

“Oh, hey Darce! Hope you don’t mind that I brought Tasha along.” Clint has that innocently sweet grin on his face and it’s hard for Darcy to be mad at him despite how awful she feels right now.

Natasha sits to his left and glances up to offer a simple nod to Darcy.

Darcy wants to flee.

But she sucks it up and sits down next to Clint, gratefully taking the shot that he had waiting for her. She was definitely going to need a lot of liquid courage to get through the evening and can’t help but feel a sense of relief when they’re spared from any attempts at conversation by the karaoke starting up.

Her eyes fall on the first singer. He’s new, which makes it all the more fun to guess. Middle aged, balding, wearing an ill-fitting suit and a drink in his hand.

“New York, New York.” Natasha guesses first, and Darcy has to wonder just how much Clint’s shared with the other woman about their not-quite weekly trips to the bar.

“Sinatra. Nice call. I’ll go with My Way.” Clint’s guess makes her want to roll her eyes. She resists.

“You guys are both way off. He’s totally going to do Piano Man.”

They quiet down as the music starts up and as the opening notes to New York, New York fill the bar Darcy starts to like their game a lot less.

~~~

The night wears on and the score stays relatively even until Darcy takes the lead with a stunning prediction of a sorority girl choosing _Firestarter_ by Prodigy and not a trendy pop tune as chosen by Clint and Natasha.

“It’s always the ones in pink. You can’t underestimate them.”

Clint just grumbles as he goes off to the bar to buy Darcy her victory drink, leaving her alone with Natasha for the first time that evening. It’s hard not to squirm as the silence stretches out between them and it’s a mix of relief and anxiety that fills her when Natasha breaks that silence.

“You should tell him.”

“Tell him what?” Darcy’s in that happy place between buzzed and drunk, but even then she still knows exactly what Natasha is referring to. She’s just not in any rush to have this conversation at all, let alone with Natasha.

Natasha isn’t giving her that option.

Darcy sighs, then glances over at her. “What? Tell him just so you can then like, kill me in my sleep or something? Thanks, but I fully prefer having all my body parts intact.”

The answering laugh, something she was certain Natasha wasn’t even capable of, shocks her.

“I assure you that ending your life or bodily harm of any sort are not a part of my master plan.”

“But I thought you two were...”

“We were.” A ghost of a smile graces Natasha’s face before fading away. “But that has run its course. I can tell how you feel about him, and unless I’m mistaken he feels the same way. Clint, unfortunately, is male. So he of course won’t say anything about it.”

Darcy snorts. “Typical male.”

“What about men?” Clint quirks a brow at the two of them as he returns with shots. “And why do I get the feeling that the two of you were plotting something while I was gone?”

Natasha gets in a “Because we were,” before Darcy can come up with a plausible deflection. Clint just shakes his head and slides Darcy her shot as he sits back down. The rest of the evening is relatively event free. Save for the not-so-subtle-considering-she’s-a-super-spy looks that Natasha keeps shooting between Darcy and Clint.

Darcy ignores them. And hopes that Clint does too and tries not to seem too enthusiastic about leaving when last call rolls around. Because it’s bad enough that she knows she likes Clint, but even worse having Natasha know. She’s pretty certain that Natasha’s not the sort to go about blabbing things like that, but she’s still leery of the office gossip pool come Monday morning.

Things were going to get rather interesting.


	2. Chapter 2

It takes Darcy another two months to work up the courage and find the time to tell Clint how she feels.

In utter fairness, not all of those two months are due to her chickening out at the last second or finding ways to avoid him. For the first six weeks she barely sees Clint because he’s busy saving the world. Or recovering from saving the world. Or taking time off because he’s just finished saving the world. And then the next two weeks are a blur of work and more work thanks to a project Coulson’s tossed in her lap. She never thought it was possible to accrue so much overtime in such a limited span, but she’s definitely looking forward to that paycheck.

But now she’s out of excuses because the project was handed in yesterday and Clint’s not off saving the world. Turns out that even supervillains need some downtime.

So, here she is, standing outside Clint’s apartment. While the team members all have their rooms at Stark Tower, some of them also have their own places. Clint told her that he likes having something that’s just his still. She stares at his door for a while, willing her heart to slow down and her chest to stop heaving and her hands to stop shaking. It’s not like she’s never told a boy she likes him before. Then again, Clint’s not a boy and this isn’t high school where the worst thing that can happen is needing to change lab partners.

She sighs, then raises her fist to knock and holds her breath as the door opens...

To find Phil Coulson standing there. In jeans and a t-shirt, barefoot. She’s always thought that he looks good in a suit, but _damn_. Casual Coulson is seriously hot. And where the hell did that come from?

She blinks a few times, then steps back to glance at the apartment number and double check what she has entered in her phone.

“I, uh, thought this was Clint’s place. Sorry.” She’s ready to leave, body half turned away when a voice calls out from somewhere in the apartment and she stops.

“Is that the delivery guy already? Make sure you tip him more than fifteen percent this time, Phil. You know how tough the economy is right now...”

Clint, his hair wet and wearing nothing but a towel, stops when he spots Darcy. She glances between the two of them, the answer and equation there but her brain’s not quite ready to accept it as truth. Phil Coulson and Clint Barton. It makes complete sense, yet doesn’t at the same time.

When the silence is bordering on uncomfortable Darcy finally finds her voice again. “I, uh, see that you’re busy. I’ll catch you later then.”

She turns her back on them both and walks away, but not before hearing the almost pained sounding “Darcy, wait!” from Clint and the quiet and restrained “I’ll go,” from Coulson. Darcy doesn’t exactly run back to Stark Tower, but she’s not walking at a leisurely rate either.

“Miss Lewis!”

She walks faster, ignoring him.

“Miss Lewis, wait!”

No stopping, back towards him. Phil Coulson is the last person she wants to talk to right now.

“Darcy.”

Now that gets her attention. She stops suddenly, spinning on her heel to face him. “What?” It comes out more forcefully than she intends it to, but she’s a little beyond calm right now.

“We need to talk.”

“About what? You and Clint are together, or whatever. Which is fine, you know. I’m fine with that. Wait- are you going to fire me or erase my memory or something?”

“No.”

“Okay. Because I totally won’t tell anyone. See? Nothing to talk about, boss. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She turns, ready to leave again but Coulson’s hand on her arm stops her. His grip is firm, but warm and somehow comforting and she immediately has to halt all of the thoughts that pop up in her head.

“Please, Darcy. Let’s...” Coulson sighs. Darcy’s pretty sure it’s the most human she’s ever seen him. “There’s a coffee shop about a block from here.”

She stares at him for the span of a few, long, heartbeats, studying his face closely. He seems hesitant, which only adds to how human he looks right now. It’s so completely different than the slightly stiff and stoic Coulson she sees at work. And was she really ready for the type of conversation she knows this is going to be?

No. Not really. Maybe not ever.

But she’s never been one to turn down free caffeine, so she nods her acceptance and lets him lead the way. When they arrive at the small shop she claims a table while Coulson grabs the drinks. It really shouldn’t come as a surprise that he knows what she likes, but it’s still a pleasant surprise when she takes the first sip.

“So...”

“Clint and I have been talking about this lately.”

“You’ve been talking about me?”

“Yes.”

“That’s... slightly creepy. And a little weird. No offense.”

“None intended, or taken. He simply expressed his feelings towards you and the fact that, presumably, they were mutual.”

“They are. I guess. But what about you? I didn’t think you liked me in that way.”

“I don’t know you well enough outside the context of being your employer to form a sufficient opinion.”

Darcy can’t stop the smile that tugs at her lips at hearing that. It’s such a Coulson thing to say and she feels some of the tension leave.

Some. Not all. Because this is a Very Adult Conversation to be having, and she’s still not entirely sold on the whole thing, if only because she’s still not entirely sure what the whole thing consists of. Or will consist of, because now she’s just getting ahead of herself.

“Ditto. I mean, you’re the coolest boss I’ve ever had, and you look great in a suit.” She can’t hide the grin when she sees him, _Phil Coulson_ , react to that revelation. His eyes go a little wide and while there’s no blush, she’s pretty sure it’s not what he was expecting to hear. “So how exactly does this work?” She, however, immediately blushes at all the other implications behind that question and scrambles to recover. “I mean, not the whole bedroom aspect. But the technical bits. Do I date you guys separately? Or do we all like, date each other.”

“We do whatever you’re most comfortable with, be it group dates or dinners at our place.”

Darcy nods, as though she’s actually agreeing to go ahead with all of this. Which she thinks she is. It’s crazy, crazier than tazing a God and agreeing to work for SHIELD in the first place. She has no idea what to expect or what the hell she’s doing, but there’s a sort of beauty in uncertainty.

“I think I can handle that.” She smiles at him, and her heart melts just a little when she sees him return that smile. Then- “But wait....Natasha said that she and Clint were together before ‘it ran its course.’ Does that mean that...you, and Clint and Natasha...?”

Coulson just nods.

“Wow. Okay. I think you just blew up my brain a little.”

The grin that graces Coulson’s face at hearing that can only be described as mischievous and his voice is slightly seductive with an edge of danger and a whole lot of promise.

“Oh, Miss Lewis. I can assure you that there are much better ways of blowing up your brain.”

~~~

Real life has the unfortunate way of really being a dick sometimes.

It takes another month after the Very Adult Conversation to coordinate all three of their schedules and agree on where to go. Darcy wants to check out that new Ethiopian place that just opened up, Clint wants steak and Coulson – no, _Phil_ – puts in a good fight for Indian. So they compromise on Italian and Darcy has a few days to mentally prepare herself to go on a date with Clint Barton and Phil Coulson.

Their first date, in a word, is an utter disaster.

There’s a stomach bug making the rounds throughout Stark Tower. A stomach bug that Darcy’s in complete denial of catching, but there’s only so much sanitizing you can do. She woke up feeling slightly queasy, which only gets worse as the day progresses. Somehow she manages to avoid any trips to the bathroom through sheer willpower and her mother’s go-to prescription of ginger ale and saltines. The rational part of her brain tells her that she should cancel their date; the boys would understand. But the irrational part of her brain knows that it’ll be at least another month before they can all have the time to go out again and, dammit, she shaved her legs this morning.

So she sucks it up, puts on a little extra blush to hide how pale she is and makes it through all three courses without immediately blowing chunks all over the fine linen tablecloth.

And then she spends the rest of the evening on her knees, and not in the totally sexy way that they all were hoping for. But the oh-dear-god-make-it-stop way as she worships the porcelain god at Clint and Phil’s place.

Clint, bless him, is amazingly sweet and supportive throughout it all. He holds back her hair and presses a cold washcloth to the back of her neck as she finishes emptying the contents of her stomach. He rubs her back as the dry heaves start, and when it’s finally, blissfully all over, he picks her up and gently places her on his couch. Phil, who was absent for the spectacle, returns at that moment with a sack full of Gatorade, chicken broth and saltines.

“You’re both my heroes.” Her voice is rough and sounds just as awful as she feels, but it still manages to pull a small smile from both of them.

Phil sets all but one of the Gatorades in the fridge and leaves the box of crackers on the counter. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

He hands the Gatorade to Clint before picking her up. His arms feel slightly different than Clint’s but, oh hell yes, she can get used to this. She presses her face to his chest and phases out a little as he carries her to what she assumes is the guest room based on its pristine and somewhat impersonal state. Her eyes, heavy and half-lidded spring open when she feels hands tugging at the hem of her dress.

“Why Agent Coulson, are you trying to get into my pants?” It’s meant to sound sexy and seductive but comes out more on the side of pathetic, but still gets a laugh from Clint as he appears in the doorway holding a set of clothes.

“Do I need to be the one to point out the fact that you’re wearing a dress?”

Phil arches a brow at her while he tosses her dress onto a nearby chair before reaching behind her to unhook her bra. She knows she should feel at least somewhat uncomfortable being almost naked in front of them so soon, but really, all she wants to do is sleep. And there’s nothing sexual about this; they’re taking care of her. They both help her into the old shirt and sweatpants, and even tuck her in.

Clint leans down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Feel better, Darce.” He nods to the Gatorade sitting on the bedside table before leaving. “Take small sips of that when you wake up.”

“We’re right down the hall if you need anything.” Phil kisses her forehead as well before closing the door behind him.

She’s never felt so miserable and so loved at the same time before. 

~~~

Once she’s fully recovered and nuked everything on her desk from orbit, Phil declares that they need not one make-up date, but three. Darcy has no arguments against this.


	3. Chapter 3

The dates continue on a fairly regular basis for the next two months. It’s actually pretty normal, or as normal as being in a three-way relationship can get. Not that she exactly has a basis of comparison, but Clint and Phil assure her that things are going fine. She could always ask Natasha, but she’s not sure if she wants to have a heart to heart with the Black Widow about her exes. As things start to progress they all agree that Darcy and Clint will be the ‘public’ face of the relationship. It makes sense, really. They were always hanging out together before things changed, and she’s pretty sure at one point that there was an office pool as to when they would finally hook up.

She may have bought into the pool.

And won.

Darcy spends her victory money on the boys, treating them to dinner for once instead of the other way around. The night ends like most, back at Clint and Phil’s apartment. There’s wine for her and beer for them and they all settle onto the couch. It’s incredibly comfortable and safe with them on either side of her and she snuggles into Clint while Phil curls up against her. And, just like most nights, the snuggling soon turns to groping and making out.

There’s an awful lot of making out.

Honestly, when this all started she was half expecting them to immediately jump to sex. But two months in and so far it’s just been making out and the occasional head. Which is totally fine with her, because making out with two amazingly hot, incredibly sexy men is quite enjoyable.

Tonight Phil is the one to get things going by sliding his hand up her shirt, his fingers dancing across her nipples through the fabric of her bra before they slide down under the band of her pants. He rubs her clit through the fabric of her thong, teasing and tormenting. Her moan is muffled by Clint’s lips pressing to hers and before she can blink Phil has ninjad her shirt onto the floor. Her bra is next, which is one step further then they’ve gone before and she has to wonder if tonight they’ll finally get past third base.

Oh _please_ let them get past third base.

Phil must have some hidden psychic abilities, or he must be that ansty as well because the “Get up and strip,” he whispers into her ear can only be described as part authoritative and part desperate.

There’s no denying the thrill she feels in the pit of her stomach at hearing that. Both because it seems like this is finally happening, and, quite honestly, Authoritative Phil is extraordinarily hot. So she stands on only slightly shaky legs and makes quick work of the rest of her clothes. It’s hard not to squirm a little as they take in her naked form, their eyes half-lidded and lips kiss-swollen. Their gazes are hungry and it takes everything Darcy has to not jump on them.

Phil is the first to stand, slowly stalking towards her before walking a circle around her, like a predator sizing up its prey.

She likes how that feels.

He twines his fingers into her hair before tugging on it, just on the side of not-gentle. She gasps, then again as he starts trailing kisses down the length of her exposed neck. While he’s doing this, Clint moves to her other side. His hands trail across her breasts, her painfully tight nipples, then down her stomach to between her legs and her already wet cunt. He runs a finger along her slit before slipping two inside of her. They stay like this for a while, Clint finger-fucking her while Phil kisses her on every piece of exposed flesh he can easily get to.

Finally, one or maybe even all three of them figure out that it’s time to move things to a better place. Like, say, the bedroom. They clumsily make their way there, the boys stopping a few times along the way to shed their clothes. When they reach the room, they both back off to give her a much needed moment. Darcy glances at them, then the bed, then back to them again.

“I take it that you haven’t exactly done this before.” Coulson says as he takes a step closer, his hand coming to rest on her back.

Darcy shakes her head. “Nope. Well. I mean, yes and no. Sex, yes. Sex with two guys at once? Not exactly.”

Clint eyes her. “And here I thought you went to college...”

Darcy smacks Clint’s shoulder without even thinking. Less than two seconds later he has her pinned to the bed, face down, an arm twisted up behind her back. She can hear Phil laughing and if she wasn’t trapped she’d probably try to smack him too.

Brats. The both of them.

“Now, see, that wasn’t very nice. Only bad girls hit people.” There’s humor in Clint’s voice, but it’s tinged with an almost overwhelming amount of need and desire.

Despite knowing the futility of the action, Darcy struggles anyway, but this only brings attention to the fact that there’s a very naked and very turned on Clint straddling her right now. This slows her struggles down, slightly, and then they stop completely when he thrusts those two fingers back into her again.

“If this is what you consider punishment I may just have to act up more often...” She’s amazed at being able to get that much of a coherent sentence out.

“Oh, I’d be careful what you wish for there, Darce. Phil has some pretty inventive means of punishment.”

Darcy’s not at all surprised by this.

Or by the fact that part of her really, really wants to find out just what they are.

Their first time together is really quite awkward. Turns out that sex with two men doesn’t happen quite as easily or as seamlessly as it does in porn.

And, yes, she has been watching some. You know. For strategic research purposes. 

The second time isn’t any better either.

But the third time, oh, she has high hopes for the third time.

Hopes that start even as she’s getting ready for their date when she gets a text from Clint.

_P says to forget the underwear tonight._

A sharp thrill runs through her as she reads the words, then once more just to be sure that she actually read what she thinks she read. She turns to the mirror then, eyeing her reflection. The black dress isn’t so clingy that it’ll be so obvious, and it falls at a decent length to avoid any embarrassing situations. So, grinning and blushing, she wiggles out of her thong.

And then, on a whim, stuffs it into her purse before leaving her apartment.

~~~

Dinner tonight is at an old Italian steakhouse, emphasis on the _old_ bit.

It’s dark and intimate and still smells of smoke despite the ban being in place for nearly two years. Phil drove tonight and he walks her toward the back where Clint is waiting for them in a cosy little booth. She moves to sit next to him, but Phil stops her as he nudges her in across from Clint before sliding in next to her. She turns to him, a quirking a brow, but her following question is cut off by the arrival of the waiter. 

Phil orders an incredibly expensive sounding bottle of wine for them and Darcy almost cringes and hopes that it’s his or Clint’s turn to pay. 

Once they’re alone again Darcy glances at Clint before turning to Phil. 

“So is this one of those inventive means of punishment?” Of course she’s referring to the thong currently residing in her purse, but good old Phil acts all innocent about it, not even answering her. 

Clint snorts, so she kicks his shin under the table. 

Phil looks up from the menu to shoot them both a stare that can only be translated as _behave, children_. This sends Darcy into a fit of giggles that come to a sudden halt when Phil's hand settles down on her thigh. High up on her thigh, to be specific. Her eyes go wide and when she looks up at Clint, he’s holding back another snort. Phil remains far too quiet for her liking, and when the waiter returns to take their orders Darcy nearly chokes on her whine as Phil’s hand slides under the hem of her dress. 

Dinner was certainly going to be interesting. 

~~~ 

Dinner was hell. 

Not the food, no. The food was actually quite amazing and the wine only helped. But every time the waiter returned to the table, Phil’s hand would slide even further up her thigh until he was slowly drawing circles around her clit. By the time dessert came, Darcy was close to coming herself. 

Now they’re stumbling from the car to the elevator, hands all over each other, Darcy’s knees trembling. Somehow they make it into the apartment. The traditional making out on the couch is skipped entirely as they head straight to the bedroom. 

Phil gets her out of her dress and bra in less than three seconds and practically tosses her onto the bed. She lands with an exhalation and a slight squeal of both delight and shock. Clint crawls next to her, his hands going straight to her breasts while Phil is sliding down between her legs. He wastes no time in getting her off with his mouth on her clit and his fingers in her cunt. She’s already on edge thanks to dinner, so she comes within minutes with a cry and a shudder. 

As Phil moves up Clint grabs him and she watches as they kiss. It’s nothing she ever expected to see, but now that she’s privy to such a thing, it’ll never get old. 

The boys keep making out for a while before she clears her throat to remind them that she’s still there. Clint looks sheepish, but Phil, oh her Phil, he just looks hungry. 

“Remember to tell us to stop if it gets to be too much." 

And with that, it’s time for attempt number three. 

Clint’s on the bottom this time, so she hopes Phil being on top will make the difference. She watches as Phil rolls the condom onto Clint’s cock before she sinks herself down on him. Phil gives them a few minutes to just fuck, and damn, is fucking Clint like this ever awesome. He lets her set the pace, which she knows is a stretch for someone who’s so used to being in control. Then she feels a soft hand on her lower back and stills her motions for step two. 

First come Phil’s lubed fingers in her ass, and even with this being the third time she’s still not entirely used to the burning stretch that’s always followed by the sort of pain that feels good. He thrusts his fingers in and out a while as she renews the rolling of her hips, then stops her again. She can hear the crinkle of the foil condom wrapper before she feels the press of Phil’s cock against her ass. He takes it slow, pausing when she gasps and not continuing until she nods her head. 

So far, attempt number three is working. 

They find a good rhythm, Clint fucking her from below and Phil fucking her from behind. The room is silent save for the sound of their gasps and raspy breathing, and when Darcy starts to whimper they increase the pace. When those whimpers become desperate sounding, Phil snakes a hand between her and Clint and rubs her clit. It doesn’t take much longer after that, and then Darcy comes undone as the most intense orgasm of her life, no overexaggeration, hits her. She screams, or at least she thinks she does, and collapses on top of Clint in a pile of useless limbs. 

Phil pulls out, very gently, and helps her roll off of Clint. He excuses himself to clean up while Clint softly strokes her arm. When Phil returns, Clint takes his turn in the bathroom before returning to lay next to her again. 

“That was...” She’s still breathless 

“Yeah.” So is Clint, apparently. 

Phil says nothing, but instead presses a soft kiss to both of their heads before pulling the sheet over them. Darcy’s really gotten used to being middle spoon and drifts off easily. 

God bless persistence. 


	4. Chapter 4

So, the sex is great.

Like, really, really great.

But what’s funny, or not really, is how all the other stuff besides the sex is really, really good too. It shouldn’t be a surprise, but it sort of is. In all of Darcy’s previous relationships it was either one or the other; great sex with no relationship to back it up, or no sex but a great relationship. There was no middle ground and she almost has to laugh at realizing that it takes dating two men at once to get there.

Really though, things are great between them. They almost always agree on everything, though there is the rare small fight over stupid things. Like who gets to sleep on what side of the bed, or whose turn it is to take out the trash. The fights don’t last long though and almost always get resolved right away through talking out. Also? Makeup sex is great too.

She spends more and more time at their apartment and less in her’s at Stark Tower, but if anyone notices this besides Tony who seems to know everything, nobody’s saying much. They’re all still under the assumption that it’s just her and Clint, which works well because that at least requires far less explanations and involves fewer awkward conversations. Everyone on the team seems to be pretty open minded, but she’s still not sold on them all immediately accepting the fact that she’s with Clint _and_ Phil.

So of course the first person to figure this out is Steve.

Clint’s off on a mission, which always leaves Darcy a complete mess. Phil usually lets her work half-days during times like this, but today she’d rather be busy than left on her own to wait and think and panic over all the various outcomes. It gets particularly bad right around three that afternoon, which sends her to Phil’s office. She knows it’s a risk, but she’s so desperate for his touch right now.

He glances up from his report as she closes the door with her hip, her tears making a mess of her mascara. Phil says nothing, just gets up from the desk and walks over to her in two quick strides. He pulls her into his arms and the embrace grounds her, pulls her back to earth and lets her know that everything is going to be okay, even if it isn’t. 

Now, a hug isn’t entirely out of line in the workplace. They all live stressful lives and a quick gesture of comfort can go a long way. What is, however, out of line is a kiss between two people who are supposedly just employer and employee, and not secretly involved in a threeway relationship. But Darcy kisses him anyway and Phil kisses her back, and just as it’s crossing the line into more than a kiss, Steve walks in.

And then immediately walks out.

“Shit.”

It’s the first time she’s heard Phil cuss at the office. Shit, indeed.

“I’ll go.”

Phil nods and she makes a hasty exit from his office to track Steve down. 

“Steve!” He’s ignoring her, which says a lot since it’s Steve and ignoring anybody goes against his strict 1940’s code of ethics. “Steve, wait. Please.”

It’s the please that finally gets him to stop, and she nods her head in the direction of an empty conference room.

“Look, what you saw is...”

“I know what I saw, and it’s not right, Darcy. No offense. But if you don’t tell Clint, I will. I wouldn’t want my girl to be necking with some other guy while I was off fighting.”

Oh, Steve. It almost breaks her heart to have to tell him the truth. Sure, he’s come a long way since being defrosted and tossed into a completely different era, but there are still some things where his views remain fairly old fashioned. Like relationships, and sex. He was just finally getting beyond the point of shifting uncomfortably at seeing her and Clint or Tony and Pepper kissing in public. Telling him that she and Phil and Clint are all together may just blow up his brain. But she has to tell him, otherwise he’ll go off to Clint, and then Tony will inevitably find out because he’s Tony, and then things will just be awkward and she’ll have to tell Tony too.

And the last thing she wants is Tony freakin’ Stark knowing about her relationship.

“See, thing is...I’m Phil’s girl too. Me, Clint and Phil. We’re all, uh, together.”

There’s silence, a lot of it, then a lot of blinking on Steve’s behalf and for a long while she worries that maybe she really did blow up his brain. But then, finally, after a few more minutes he seems to finish some sort of internal battle and nods.

“I see.”

Darcy’s pretty sure that he doesn’t, but at least he’s not ready to go off on behalf of Clint’s honor.

“Are you happy?”

“We are. All of us. Very happy.” It’s the damn truth and she doesn’t hold back the smile. This seems to satisfy Steve and he makes his exit from the room.

When Clint returns safely from his mission later that night she doesn’t even hesitate to run up to him and kiss him, all in front of everyone gathered around. It’s the most public display of affection they’ve shared, and she’s happy to be doing it. Steve is there to help welcome Clint back too, and Darcy catches his eye as she walks out of the mission bay, hand in hand with Clint. Steve nods, and she swears she catches the ghost of a smile gracing his lips as they leave.

~~~

Later that night they’re all in bed together, just like almost every night these days. Clint is to her left, out cold and snoring slightly but neither she nor Phil has the heart to wake him up and make him roll over. Phil’s still awake too, and she’s curled up next to him, her head on his shoulder with his arm around her. She lazily traces at the scars from Loki’s scepter on his chest as they lay in the dark.

“Steve knows.” She keeps her voice low enough to not disturb Clint, but still knows that he sleeps like the dead after a mission.

“And how did he take that news?”

“Well, I sorta skimmed on the details. I figured blowing up Captain America’s brain could be considered an act of treason.” 

This pulls a quiet chuckle from Phil and puts a grin on Darcy’s face. They both fall silent for a while then, until Darcy shifts slightly to sit up. There’s just enough light coming in from the street below them for her to make out his face.

“Do you want to tell everyone else?” It’s been on her mind for a while now. They’ve been together almost six months and while she’s perfectly content with keeping the details a secret, she knows that won’t last forever.

“Do you?” Leave it to Phil to always turn things back around on her. It’s one of his most endearing yet annoying qualities.

She sighs, then shrugs. “I don’t know. I mean, sure, it’d be great to not have to sneak around so much. But part of me also likes that it’s something just for us, you know. If that makes any sense.”

“It does.” Phil smiles. “Why don’t we just wait and see how things go, for now.”

Darcy is of the now-generation. The internet-raised youth who demand and expect instant gratification. And while she tries to shy away from that stereotype, there are still times where she falls into that category quite often. But it’s now, with this relationship and everything that comes with it, that she’s finally okay with waiting. With not knowing.

So she smiles, kisses him, and snuggles back down against him for the night.


	5. Chapter 5

“Miss Lewis, my office. Now.”

She ignores the looks of curiosity mixed with sympathy that she gets from the other junior level agents sitting around her in their cubicle farm. Tensions have been running high lately with the stress of their latest project and it’s been especially hard on her relationship. The line between boss and boyfriend is a rather thin one, and she momentarily forgot about that line and snapped at Phil when he asked her to run the set of numbers. Again. For about the twelfth time that week.

Rising slowly, she wastes no time in entering his office because taking her time will only add to his ire and it’s just prolonging the inevitable. She closes and locks the door behind her without even asking and braces herself for the storm.

Instead she finds herself bent over Phil’s lap before she can even blink.

“There’s a lot I can tolerate from you, Darcy.”

He tugs down her skirt with one hand while the other pins her wrists behind her back. 

“I can tolerate you being late. I can tolerate your less than professional manner.”

Next goes her pantyhose and underwear.

“What I can’t, however, tolerate is you so carelessly disregarding the level of professionalism that I strive to uphold in this office.”

And with that, he spanks her.

The first swat comes as a total surprise and she cries out. And maybe curses at him, because the next swat is even harder. She starts squirming then, but the grip on her wrists tightens and she stops. He spanks her more; three, four, five swats. After the sixth and seventh the warm burn on her cheeks starts to take on a whole different feeling. After the eighth she starts squirming for an entirely different reason, and when he gets to ten she actually moans.

This stops his hand, and when it comes down next it’s to slide between her legs and start rolling her clit between his thumb and forefinger.

“Now who’s disregarding the level of professionalism?”

This earns her another swat, but when Phil pulls her up she’s pretty sure that he’s trying to hide a smirk. But he leaves her no time to question it, because she blinks and is once again in a different position. He bends her over his desk and, with a momentary interlude to roll on a condom, he enters her in one swift motion.

“You keep condoms in your office? You are such a boy scout.”

“Hush.”

He fucks her hard, but holds back just enough so as to not make enough noise to arouse suspicion. So when the door that she knows she locked opens she almost screams, but stops at seeing Clint.

“The hell? Are you guys psychic or something?”

Neither answer her, but she’s starting to believe the whole psychic thing because they all coordinate things a little too well for not speaking a single word. Phil continues to fuck her from behind while Clint grabs her hair and lifts her head up so she can suck his cock. When Phil stops, they swap places in a move so seamless that she almost wants to give them an award.

They switch again, this time with Phil on the desk. Darcy sinks herself down onto his still hard cock and when Clint enters her from behind she has to bite down on Phil’s shoulder to keep from crying out. This is definitely one of those moments where you don’t want someone walking in. They easily fall into their perfect rhythm, Phil instinctively knowing when to find her clit to help send her over the edge. Clint’s reflexes prove spotless as he manages to get a hand over her mouth to muffle her cries as she comes.

When they manage to untangle themselves from each other and Phil hands them a pack of wet wipes she can’t help but laugh. “Seriously. Boy scout.”

Clint laughs too and shrugs when Phil shoots him a look. “What? She’s right, you know. You are a boy scout. Always prepared.”

Darcy continues to giggle a little as she gets dressed. “So was that one of the inventive means of punishment? Because I think I can get used to that.”

She gets no answer to that either, save for a knowing smirk from Clint before he switches his expression to a mix of anger and annoyance as he leaves the office. Darcy turns to Phil who’s currently eying her.

“Try to look a little browbeaten, at least.”

Darcy changes her expression too.

“No. That’s too ‘just fucked’.”

She rolls her eyes, and tries once more.

“Better.”

Darcy turns to walk out, but stops as Phil says her name.

“Don’t forget it’s your turn to get the take-out tonight. And make sure if you go to that place on fifth that you ask for extra sauce.”

She rolls her eyes as she walks out, which fits the ‘just yelled at by Coulson’ look she has going. The other lackeys all wince and more than a few offer to buy her a sympathy drink that night. There’s no regret at all when she turns them down.

~~~

It’s been a year now of this. Of her and Clint and Phil, and things are still going strong. While it’s not quite the longest relationship she’s had - that honor goes to Mike Masterson who she dated for almost two years in high school - it’s certainly the healthiest and strongest one yet.

They work well together, the three of them. They support each other and balance each other out and sometimes she wonders why it took so long for this to happen.

Darcy lives with Clint now. She moved in around month eight and nobody seemed to bat an eye at that. People still assume that Clint’s apartment is just Clint’s and have no idea that it’s Phil’s too. She and Clint are still the public face of the relationship, but she’s pretty sure that’s going to change soon.

Oh, in about nine months. Maybe sooner.

Funny how two little pink lines can change your life. And they’re not even really pink, but more of a purple-ish. She stares down at the test, the third she’s taken today. She’d been feeling a little off all week and while she’s not super late, something just felt different. They haven’t exactly brought up the subject of kids before, let alone making things more official. Or at least as official as they could get. There was one conversation about a month ago about who would marry who to help out with legal matters, but nothing beyond that.

This, though, this would require quite the conversation.

She glances down at the test again, her mind going over just how much everything will change. But something’s missing.

She should be panicking now, right? Freaking out about an unplanned pregnancy and how she’s still too young to be a mom and who the daddy could be. But none of that is there. Instead, there’s a sort of peace, a calm that she’s been feeling a lot over the past year.

So, this is it.

With a deep breath, she grabs the test and exits the bathroom. When she enters the living area she spots Clint setting the table while Phil finishes cooking dinner and a smile graces her face at seeing her boys together. Sure, things would be complicated and maybe a little crazy, but they could do this.

Because there’s a sort of beauty in uncertainty.


End file.
